


The Cookies Are Alright

by RisForRelic



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cookies, Cooking, Gen, Other, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:33:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisForRelic/pseuds/RisForRelic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has convinced the whole pack to bake some cookies and yes, this means Derek.<br/>Too bad no one told them a bunch of teenagers and a kitchen wouldn't produce the intended results.<br/>Stiles doesn't seem to mind though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cookies Are Alright

The situation was turning dire at best, and that was putting it lightly.

Stiles couldn't see shit as he haphazardly shuffled his way across the war zone that was the kitchen, arms pushing half-heartedly at the thick plume of flour that had descended like a fog. The soles of his shoes slid and squelched at erratic intervals as he stepped into a puddle of yolk or a glob of melted butter.

 

His face was becoming pained as he rapidly flipped through all forms of alarm and disgust.

Pinwheeling his arms out rapidly, as he shoes lost their traction, he grabbed for any solid purchase available. His hand landed with a dull thwack on something that felt smoothly familiar but his curiosity was doused with a sense of impending doom as his feet finally gave way and he was left clinging for dear life.

 

The faint smell of smoky ashes and pungent moss had him wondering if it would've been safer taking the dive. His fingers, despite his new foreboding, clenched tight until the white of his knuckles could be seen and he realized belatedly that his hands were shaking. Whether it was from his sudden fall or adrenaline or _whatever_ , he had the sense of mind to at least _think_ about letting the newly-ruined leather his hands were gripping go before a low-growl interrupted his thoughts.

He blinked slowly at the scowling face that could now be seen through the translucent veil of flour and he gave it a half-hearted chuckle before straightening himself up and awkwardly trying to pat his handprints off the jacket.

 

One unimpressed eyebrow was raised in a way that screamed "hands off" and "kiss me" in such an infuriating manner Stiles could only huff and turn towards the source of their woes. Giving Derek a quick once over he glanced back at their surroundings and nervously scratched the back of his neck.

 

"Eh, I suppose speeding the mixer up doesn't _actually_ speed up the mixing process." 

 

"Yeah, no shit, Sucklinski." Jackson's head popped up from where he had taken cover near the island, Lydia's own flamings strands appearing soon after. Not a single hair was displaced and the worst that could be said about her outfit was that it was now missing one button on the pocket of her shirt.

 

"Stupid, werewolf reflexes." Stiles mumbled as he gazed down at his own attire, caked in layers of foods he was sure to never eat again. 

 

"That was totally awesome!" Scott, who had finally come to his senses, cheered while sitting spread eagle on the stomach of a not so amused beta. Isaac groaned, from his position, and tried to push Scott off but he was having none of it. Allison was trying not to chuckle as she held the end of the mixer's electrical cord. She was probably the only who thought to actually unplug it before trying to dive for cover. Unfortunately, that meant she had suffered the brunt of the attack and was basically covered from head to toe in a sticky white film. 

 

Erica was laughing her ass off from where she sat on the couch in the other room, a bemused Boyd as her pillow. She had long since given up on the idea of cooking and had contented herself (dragging Boyd to join her) in watching the free show. To say she was not disappointed was an understatement. With the exception of Lydia, everybody was covered in varying degrees of flour, sugar, eggs, butter, and everything else that was thrown into the bowl. Stile was surprised no one had made an orgy joke...yet.

 

The sound of keys hitting a dish instantly shut everybody up as Danny reappeared from last-minute grocery shopping, his attention momentarily distracted by the bags in his grip. 

 

"So I didn't know what kind of chocolate chips you wanted so I thought why not get both-" He froze, one hand still scrummaging through his purchases, as he surveyed the destruction. Erica, upon seeing his horrified expression, redoubled her cackling and accidentally kicked Boyd in the jaw as she quickly hurtled herself off the couch and onto the flow with a loud thump. Of course, this only added to her merriment and he could only rub his jaw and smile along with her.

 

Everybody stared back at Danny, with deer in the headlight looks, as the shrill quip of the buzzer suddenly went off.

 

"You know," Danny resumed walking, speaking as if he hadn't just walked in on Hurricane Chocolatey Chunk, "when I said don't worry about making a mess I was kind of hoping that didn't mean give my kitchen a new coat of…whatever this is." 

 

He gazed intently at the few remaining bits of goo that were stuck in the bowl. Turning to Stiles he smirked good-naturedly. 

 

"You _do_ know that the ingredients go _in_ the bowl, right? Unless, I'm _interrupting_ anything?"

 

Stiles mouth was open in mid-question when he realized that he was still standing there with both of this hands still pressed firmly on Derek's upper chest. He choked back a squeal, snapped his hands back, and tripped slightly as he stumbled backwards. He began stammering in a way that only Stiles could do best, feeling the warm flush of blood reach his head. All the while Derek was pinning him with a look that screamed "you're an idiot but you amuse me" that definitely did _not_ increase the sexual tension in the room. At all.

 

Danny chuckled to himself and started to pass out towels and rags from his drawers, placing the grocery bags on the counter space not currently smeared with batter. Everybody gratefully accepted one, especially Allison who gave him a quick peck on the cheek before walking off to chat with Jackson and Lydia.

 

Isaac and Scott were now play-fighting on the floor: they were a blur of legs and limbs before they hit the bottom of the island with a grunt. Stiles was pretty sure Scott was letting the other win. Isaac let out a small victory whoop before he scrambled up and ran behind Danny, using him as a shield while simultaneously accepting a towel. Celeste-blue eyes peeked out from behind the jock's elbow, glaring suspiciously at his opponent. Scott childishly stuck his tongue out but seemed to calm down as he had a rag shoved into his hands. Danny quickly ruffled Isaac's hair before giving the Stiles a very _knowing_ look and walked away, determined to find a phonebook.

 

Stiles slowly rubbed at his hands and face before noticing that Derek had made no move to go anywhere. He just stood there, comically covered in goo, jaw set and eyes narrowed. Stiles let his own disappointment of the night evaporate for now as he carefully shuffled to the Alpha.

 

"Kanima got your tongue?" He ventured to tease as he once again smelled the familiar smell that was so much like the man. He found his breath coming out slower and more relaxed, as he sure the werewolf could sense too.

 

Derek glared at him for a few seconds before he let out a deep sigh that seemed to untangle the stiffness he had been holding since Stiles first fell on him. 

 

Stiles scrunched his nose as he tilted his head in confusion.

 

"Excuse me, I didn't quite get that?" 

 

"I _said_ ," Derek took a deep breath, "I said I'm sorry about the cookies." The last part was directed over Stiles's shoulder but he heard it nonetheless and couldn't help the grin that threatened to split his face. Hesitantly he raised his hand and, when he only received a questioning eyebrow, he poked Derek softly in the left pec. 

 

"Why, Mr. Sourwolf, would you care about some 'stupid ass cookies'"? Stiles couldn't help the smirk that accompanied his words but it quickly turned into something warmer when Derek spoke again.

 

"I…" He cleared his throat, clenched his fist, and seemed to growl in both a frustrated and endearing tone, "it seemed important. To you." The last part was shrugged but Stiles knew the implications. He let his eyes wander over the nicely-defined jaw, and the small creases in the skin as he continued to scowl. He poked Derek one more time, and offered him a quick smile.

 

Turning, he went to look over their odd-assortment of a pack. Yeah, he was disappointed at the outcome of their gathering but that didn't mean he was disappointed about the _whole_ night. He found himself rocking on the tips of his shoes as he surveyed the various degrees of joy and contentment slapped onto everyone's faces. Even Jackson seemed to be enjoying himself, although he would not be the first to admit it. Shrugging to himself, Stiles turned back. He stuffed his hands into the pocket of his jeans as he stared down at the floor.

 

"Mom loved to cook."

 

Derek's full attention was on him and it made him squirm more than usual. He toed a pile of flour while he took another deep breath.

 

"She taught me a lot of her recipes. The cookie one was her favorite. I could never get it down though, there was always something missing." He looked up again, just a flash of the eyes, but he saw all that he needed to see.

 

"But I guess I didn't miss her cookies. I just missed…well…. _this_." He gestured awkwardly to their arrangement. "Although I could do without the..uh…mess." He scrunched his nose again as a plop of dough suddenly landed with a plop on his forehead.

 

He shifted his gaze everywhere but at the one person who was looking at him, and he was floored when a low un-even hum broke the tension. He whipped his head up and caught it a few seconds before Derek was quick to slide his facial features back into the default "I'm moody and probably write all my feelings in a diary at night" look.

 

He stood stock-still before his eyes widened, his mouth fell into gaping like a fish, and he practically threw himself against the leather chest.Clasping his hands on taught shoulders, his body alerting him to a vague sense of horror he ignored, he practically jumped up and down.

 

"No, no, no! No, not that face. Don't pout-"

 

"I do _not_ pout-"

 

"Semantics." Stiles flapped a distracted hand. "But we're off topic! I saw! You can't hide it because I saw! I totally saw you smile. I _totally_ got you, Mr. I'm-Too-Cool-for-Doors Hale to smile. Mr. My-Clothes-Are-Black-Like-My-Soul Hale! Mr. I've-Give-No-Fu"

 

" _Stiles._ " The growl was a command, that Stiles immediately closed his mouth at. Instead, he stopped his enthusiastic spasm for a few seconds to stare innocently. 

 

"What?"

 

"Shut up." And Derek smiled again with the full set of his teeth. A real, warm smile that made Stiles feel like he wanted to just grab the guy and cuddle him against his chest while also slamming him against the nearest wall. A smile that had him feeling pleasure in more than one area. He was so caught up in his ecstasy that he barely registered Derek's hand coming up to rub at something on his face.

 

"H-hey, wha-" Was all he managed to get out before something incredibly moist and incredibly warm ran a path from his dimple to the tip of his temple. 

 

His brain came to a wild and incredibly alarming stop, as he felt the skin tingle with the light pressure of a feeling that had his knees going weak. Cool air that immediately assaulted the path sent a shiver cascading from the base of his neck to the small of his back. He could feel hot puffs of air beat a pattern on his ear as teeth lightly nipped at the skin. 

"I think the cookies taste fine."

 

 He managed to get out a little squeak before Derek pulled back, gave him another breath-wrenching smile and turned to stare at Danny who had come in from the other room. Stiles didn't let him go that easily, and practically latched himself onto the strong-toned back.

 

"D-did you. I...that..you..did you just _lick_ me?"

 

It was only then that Stiles noticed the kitchen had been vacated and he could hear the distant sound of chatter in the room Danny had just appeared from.

 

"If I can just interrupt you for _one_ second." Stiles could feel the tips of his ears heat up. "Are you guys game for chinese?"

 

Derek threw him a small smirk over his shoulder before passing Danny into the other room. "Chinese is fine."

 

Danny watched him go with amusement before giving Stiles a _very knowing_ look and span around to join the festivities. 

 

Stiles, to his own credit, shook his head to clear his senses and huffed. Stomping his foot a little he crossed his arms and quickly assessed the now-ruined kitchen. He let out the puff of air he was holding and absent-mindedly rubbed at his chin. _That's gonna be a bitch to clean._ As he shifted his focus he could feel the unpleasant ooze of something sticky trace it's way down his temple snapping him back to earlier thoughts. Swiping his pointer finger to halt it, he licked the batter off and finally went to leave.

 

Catching Derek's hungry eyes, he paused. Shooting another quick look behind his shoulder he met smoldering eyes again. Smirking slowly to himself he found a seat next to the Alpha and snuggled in close, lifting his feet to land his his lap. Ignoring the semi-annoyed look, he ran a quick hand under a stubbled-chin and brought some remaining batter to his lips. He met Derek's gaze evenly as he quickly licked it off his fingers.

 

"Yeah, the cookies taste just fine."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any typos.  
> Do you guys want everybody else's perspective?
> 
> Inspiration: The whole cookies for Sterek. I didn't have access to an oven so I thought this was the next best thing.


End file.
